


Relations

by wintersnow999



Series: Scientists Are People Too (The Glass Scientists Short Stories feat. The Lodgers) [4]
Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, I don't like how it's written for some reason, I meant to post this around Christmastime, I'll edit it someday, I'm also starting to lowkey ship tweeds and pennebrygg, I'm not sure if I like this fic that much, but I never got around to it, oh well, so here's a christmas fic a few months late, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 01:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersnow999/pseuds/wintersnow999
Summary: Mr. Tweedy can't stop thinking about his family. Mr. Griffin, however, would do anything to forget about his.(Second Part to Legacy)





	Relations

Baxter Tweedy had once been a husband, but now he was just a father.

Every opportunity he was given, he would begin explaining just how amazing his children were to any available listener. There wasn’t a single person at the Society who hadn’t heard about every little thing Baxter Junior and Oliver had said or done that week. The joy he had was clear in his eyes whenever the two boys came to mind- no one ever had the heart to tell him to stop.

Almost no one, that is.

“-and you won’t believe how closely he follows in my footsteps, I mean, I’ll bet my sonartransfigurator there isn’t another boy in London who can do the things Oliver does with a few good wires and a welding torch-” Tweedy was in the process of saying one day, earnestly, to Pennebrygg and Flowers as the three of them sat working in the main foyer before pausing to take a breath. It was nearing holiday season, and festive decorations were being made by virtually everyone in the Society. The other two scientists were nodding along while they worked, not really listening, not really zoning out. It was nice to see Tweedy happy, especially when his temper was so fragile around wintertime. It reminded him of those things he’d lost, in the same season just a year ago.

Griffin happened to pass by, holding an armful of mildly singed books and looking annoyed. Of course he always looked annoyed, but right now he looked even more so than usual. He paused on his way to his room to listen in on Tweedy’s enthusiasm, and his scowl deepened.

“…And not to mention he’s not even seven, I wouldn’t be able to believe-” Tweedy was about to continue, when Griffin cleared his throat. All three scientists stopped.

“We get it, Baxter, you have kids, fantastic. No one needs to hear about them all the time, all right?” the pale man told him stiffly. “No one cares. If _you_ can’t even put up with them long enough to actually let them live with you, do you-”

Tweedy was on his feet before Griffin could say another word.

The room was quiet now, all eyes on the two of them. Griffin’s annoyed expression was starting to fade. His gaze flicked around, at everything except the other man.

If he had been looking at Tweedy, he would have seen his fists balled and a black look in his eyes. He looked like he was ready to punch Griffin straight into next week, but then, just as Pennebrygg was getting ready to run forwards and pull them apart, Tweedy turned silently on his heel and walked away, head down. He suddenly looked very empty.

Griffin stood there for a moment longer, mildly surprised, then also left.

There was silence, followed quickly by a storm of whispering. Pennebrygg got to his feet, unnoticed amongst the gossip, and wavered, not sure whether to follow his friend or the invisibility scientist.

He chose his friend after a moment, and headed after him.

* * *

 

Tweedy was sitting in his lab, hands clasped in his lap, eyes downcast. Pennebrygg watched him through the door for a few long seconds, before quietly knocking. The usually unfazed galvanic engineer looked up, startled, then slumped again and waved a hand, inviting him in.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Pennebrygg said immediately, sitting down next to him. “You know he likes being an arse to everyone, no one really thinks-”

“Am I a bad father?” Tweedy asked- cutting him off, but speaking mostly to himself. He didn’t look at Pennebrygg. “If I can’t even find the responsibility in myself to live with my children… to let them stay with me, instead of suffering at the children’s home…”

“Both you and I know that that’s not what’s happening,” Pennebrygg told him gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I completely understand, this Society isn’t the place for two young children, you’re trying to keep them safe, and you’re busy enough as it is.”

Tweedy looked at him, eyes miserable and desperate.

“Walter, they _hate_ it there,” he said. His voice was beginning to rise. “They try to pretend they don’t, for my sake, but I can see it every time they drop by, whenever they meet their caretaker to take them back, they hate every second they’re there. They hate it, they hate-”

He fell silent.

After a long, slow moment more, he whispered, “They must hate me.”

Pennebrygg gave a disbelieving laugh and took Tweedy’s hands in his own. “Don’t be like that! I’ve never seen two kids that love their father more.”

Tweedy stared at him, and suddenly feeling very awkward, Pennebrygg pulled away.

They sat in silence for a while, then Pennebrygg quietly made his excuses and walked away.

Tweedy was quiet as the other man left. Everything that had been weighing on his mind in the last few weeks suddenly weighed so much heavier. The fears, the loneliness- it hurt.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he had to wipe the tear away.

* * *

 

Griffin’s foul mood hadn’t been helped in the least by his confrontation with Tweedy. The other scientist reminded him all too clearly of his own father- never spending time with his children, leaving them in a bitter place for the sake of work, _saying_ he cared- to allow him any comfort around him.

But oh well. He would stay with his science on the one side, Tweedy would stay with his on the other, and with any luck he would be able to completely ignore the man.

“Jack, do you have a minute?”

“Don’t call me that,” he said flatly, without even turning to see who it was that was speaking. Pennebrygg’s voice was distinctive enough, anyway.

The automatonist hurried up next to him. “Sorry, but this is important.”

“You know what else is important? My work.” Griffin walked faster.

Pennebrygg sighed, but kept up with the taller man. “You have to make amends at some point, you know that. Grudges will just make this place fall apart.”

“Who says I have a grudge? I just don’t like him and his rambling about children he doesn’t really care about. Simple.”

“He doesn’t-!”

Pennebrygg sighed again and started the sentence over, more calmly. “Baxter is a good man. You know he’d let his children stay with him if he could.”

“He can’t, or he won’t?”

“Well, he- he won’t, but because he knows the Society isn’t a safe place for children. He wants the best for them.”

“That’s what they all say,” Griffin muttered, and turned into his room, closing the door firmly in Pennebrygg’s face.

Pennebrygg stood there, defeated, then walked quietly away.

* * *

 

When he went back to Tweedy’s room, he heard the humming of electricity, and the door handle gave him an electric shock when he touched it, just like normal. Inside, Tweedy was hopping around like a maniac, attaching metal parts to each other and generally keeping himself busy, as though nothing at all was wrong.

The only thing at all different was that the picture Tweedy kept on his desk, a photo of his family, was surrounded with tinsel, and two half-wrapped presents lay on the ground in front of it, looking as forlorn as the emotions throughout the whole Society this Christmas.

Pennebrygg sighed and walked back towards the main room.

It was worrying, but he could hope.


End file.
